YHGTBLMNWTTOAE
by Aguagi
Summary: A series of somewhat non-serious prompts, with their titles being attributed to a letter within the title. Chapter 3- T/To: Snowflakes dot the mocha brown of her hair and the frigid winter chill sets in her bones, with miles to go before she sleeps, and miles to go before she sleeps. Chapter 4 - O/Of [Monsters and Men]: They failed to separate Ryuko from the kamui.
1. You

When Satsuki was a very young child, Revocs had a branch that specialized in music production and publishing as part of an experiment. Ragyo found great amusement in having Satsuki sing Evanescence songs, and published them to a worldwide market. Her top hit? "My Imouto", an altered rendition of "My Immortal".

* * *

Being robbed of a childhood and the greater part of her teenage years had left Satsuki more than socially awkward when it came to normal everyday things like going out with friends or making plans with a semi-feral freak-of-nature that somehow turned out to be a long-lost sibling. It came as a slight blow to her pride when Ryuko- a person who had spent the majority of her life living as a delinquent, remaining friendless and alone, and knowing the touch of other humans only through trading blows- had managed to be less socially inept than she was. In fact, it stung.

So naturally, she had strived to learn all she could and "catch up", so to speak, with friends and family and the latest trends that had been pervading the world after the life fiber crisis. Quite fittingly, Ryuko was roped into her endeavors, whether it was in taking a day off and having a date in one of the elder's favorite bookstores, or the former President herself riding pillion with the red-streaked delinquent on one of the latter's lengthy rides throughout the Japanese mainland. The need to make up for seventeen years and several-odd months' worth of kinship went unvoiced, but the unspoken desire was easily received and interpreted by the shorter of the two.

And between strenuous periods filled with nothing but work managing Revocs' assets and reforming the company from the inside out, Ryuko would come up to her floor, practically kick the deluxe double doors leading to her private office off its hinges, and generally be a welcome distraction from her seemingly never-ending battle. In fact, the younger would make it a point to "bother" her as much as possible- a feat made easier by the fact that she never bothered to attend college and instead spent her days looking after neighborhood kids and lending a hand in rebuilding after the near-apocalypse. Having came from a similar background as they did, she was an invaluable presence in the eyes of the town elders- a saint that waltzed in one day and somehow managed to quell the destructive rabid fires raging in the hearts of their youth with relative ease. A troubled woman with a troubled past, it was no wonder she had managed to befriend the local ruffians, resonate with their problems, and turn their energies towards something constructive.

It was on the conclusion of one of their dates that Satsuki had finally felt the need to actually explain why she had spent so much time with the small group of people she came to know as friends and family. They were walking home, ice cream cones in hand, one hand in their respective jacket pockets and the other firmly clasping the sugary treat. It was late, and only a handful of businesses had their lights lit. She figures she must have voiced it, because Ryuko stops and gives her a long, confused look. The former President opens her mouth to speak again, but is silenced when Ryuko beats her to it.

"Ya don't need to say anything," the younger sibling says, amused. "I get it, your childhood was absolutely crap, and you didn't exactly have the time to go out and experience the world- what, with planning a thirteen-year long plan to save the entire planet and all from a gigantic ball of yarn. It's fine."

She decorates her statement with ferocious bites to her treat, spraying waffle bits everywhere as she spoke. A twitch of thin lips- a smile so small and subtle that anyone other than her Elites and Ryuko would have attributed it to the shifting shadows in the dim lighting- and Satsuki found herself scoffing in amusement at her sister's rebuttal.

"It's not as if your childhood was picture perfect, either. ...Still, I must thank you for purchasing these. ...I know money has been tight for you, and surely you must have spent weeks saving up just to make today happen."

Another bite. Satsuki watches as Ryuko practically all but shoves her face into the foodstuff, managing to get her nose tipped in the whipped cream topping. She swallows thickly, taking more than a moment to respond as she fought to choke down a bite of waffle between hacking coughs.

"Ah. It's no big deal, really."

They walked for a bit, side by side, until the frozen milk melted and the remainder of the dessert was devoured. They then cut across a park, taking in the hustle and bustle of everyday life from a distance, of blissfully ignorant people whose lives were mercifully spared in the crossfire of fibers-vs-human warfare. Ocean-colored orbs tracked her movements for a while, observing the hybrid as she reveled in the familiar sights and sounds of a land long left behind in her quest for vengeance. And eventually, their owner spoke.

"How _were_ you able to afford that apartment you have right now? I don't recall you using any of the funds I obtained as inheritance."

Ryuko abruptly stopped. Leaves crunched underfoot as the taller of the two sidled up next to her. Old white sneakers scuffed against concrete as a pointed look was shot underneath midnight-blue bangs, and a pregnant silence filled the space between.

"Dad. I got a letter a while back after the legal messes had been sorted out. Turns out he had a pretty good amount of yen allotted to me in his will. I wasn't really paying attention, but I think it was several hundred thousand. Maybe a million or two. ...Maybe more, actually. I mean, it's not like dad was dirt-poor, ya know? How else did you think Nudist Beach got started or how I survived during my years at boarding school when I was a 'demonic vagrant ravaging the streets of Kanto' before… ya know… the whole 'I got to find out who killed my dad' thing? ...It's weird. After I turned five, he… changed... Became less open to me. ...He wasn't hostile or anything, but he kind of stopped acknowledging my existence except when it was dinnertime. If I tried to ask him anything, he just grunted in response. The last real conversation we had was shortly before he dropped me off at Ox Elementary, where I stayed at for a couple years.

I mean, he didn't call me or write letters or anything during my time there, he just sent me a small sum of yen every other week with a post-it note telling me to be sure to eat and study. I guess that's as good as he got to parenting."

Ryuko walked on ahead, leaving a baffled Satsuki standing in the middle of the clearing before she regained her senses and chased after her. Her- no, their- father… That couldn't have been right. From what she remembered, he was very friendly even if his pile of work stretched to the ceiling. But as she gave it more thought, she realized his reasons for alienating his daughter were ever tied to Ragyo. Ragyo, a cruel woman that ordered the murder of her own husband not once, but twice. Ragyo, who would have snatched Ryuko up for her own purposes, had she found out about her still-alive ex-husband's illegal research sooner and divined Ryuko's true status as her second-born and another life fiber-human hybrid.

A question tugged at the back of her mind, and she couldn't resist giving voice to the thought. "Did he… ever mention me at all?"

Ryuko hummed, fishing a toothpick out her pocket and wedging it between the tips of her incisors.

"No, actually. Dad never mentioned that I had a sibling. As far as I knew for about… seventeen years and several-odd months, I was an only child. And then the festival happened, I got my heart ripped out, and suddenly, I found myself with the biggest bunch of sticks-in-the-mud as surprise family members."

The elder laughed, a sound that was matched in volume by the quiet gentle breezes of the wind itself.

"Ironically," Satsuki's lips twitched into an approximation of a smile- all skin, no teeth. "Ragyo had given me the same thing she had taken away."

"Eh?"

"You," the elder clarified, staring into the starry skies above, so blessedly free of the presence of the same life fibers that had torn them apart, haphazardly forced them together in the crudest of manners, and threatened the very fate of the planet two years ago. "In the thirteen years I have spent plotting her downfall, never had I imagined an outcome where I would be reunited with the sibling she had so callously thrown aside, save in death."

Their speech fell silent again, and Ryuko tentatively twined her fingers with Satsuki's own, only relaxing when the latter made a small hum of approval. Any other pair would have been pressured to make small talk, to dissolve some sort of invisible tension between their lips. But it was in silence that the Kiryuin siblings thrived, for the telltale twitches of Satsuki's eyebrows and the flashing glimmers of Ryuko's teeth provided a silent language all but unknown to all but the two of them.

The ex-delinquent's phone buzzed, and she casually whipped it out of her pocket with her free hand, scowling when she received a text message from Hoka, along with a screencap of the social media accounts he had broken into in a fit of boredom.

"Trust the dog to ruin such a poignant conversation…"

One of Satsuki's generous eyebrows shot towards her bangs. "Poignant? I was unaware you had that word in your dictionary."

Ryuko grit her teeth as she texted a reply back. "Ha ha. Very funny, eyebrows. Comedy gold. ...He changed my Twitter handle again. ...And my profile picture too. Ooh, he thinks he's so clever with this one… 'RedBangedBitch', and a shot of my highlight. Classic."

"At least it was better than the last one he gave you." Her face twitched in mock-thought. "What was it again?"

"'Discombobulated melancholy'… no wait, that was my Facebook… He was calling me an emo because of my 'edgy hairstyle and personality'. ...Took away his PDA for a week for that. … Oh, I got it I think it was… ah… um…"

Ryuko's voice trailed off into something less than a mumbled response, cheeks progressively reddening.

"I'm sorry, come again?"

"SuprSndLsBn..."

A small twitch of her brows graced the ex-President's face, and a glimmering twinkle soon took residence in her eyes. "Excuse me?"

"Super sand le… uh… ...forget it. It's a reference to a dumb video I showed him. Parody of an anime that takes like… fifty episodes before anything is done. Wish granting dragons, killer robots… that kind of stuff. Remind me to break into his house and put that disgusting Cheez Whiz stuff in his keyboard, whenever I drop you off."

"No promises."

An irritated 'tch' was the younger's only response. And if the elder strained her ears, she could hear her mumble 'keep your dog on a leash, or he'll find more than his computers messed up...' under her breath. Seeking to distract her, she posed the first question that came to her questing mind.

"Would you have done it again?"

"Hm?"

"If you could go back in time, knowing the exact outcome of your actions here, would you have changed your actions?"

"Wait, do you mean like, me physically going back and being able to interact with my younger self, or…?"

A gentle exhale, and the most patient of smiles- things that ended up in life's Venn diagram as things Satsuki found herself naturally doing more and more in her sister's presence and things that would astound people to see her do to this very day.

"No, I mean you going back in time as however old you were in that time period, but with the knowledge of future events."

A short puff of air disturbed nature's monotony as Ryuko finally understand what she meant.

"I would have advised dad to get a vacation home somewhere outside Japan so that he wouldn't have been there when Nui came. ...Would have tried to get him completely out of the county, actually. Or at the very least, I would have probably found Senketsu sooner and practiced fighting with the scissor sword so I wouldn't have had my ass handed to me the first time I tried to kill you."

Satsuki responded similarly, noting how they would still have publicly clashed with swords and sailor uniforms due to different upbringings, but perhaps would have became better acquainted with each other behind closed doors, where they were able to practice their skills and scheme in private without the threat of Satsuki losing her appearance as Ragyo's loyal lapdog until the festival. They traded scenarios, laughing and joking as the distance between them and their destination grew practically nonexistent.

Satsuki stopped, and Ryuko soon followed suit as well. Parked by the curb and innocently sitting before the siblings was a sleek sport motorcycle, built for illegally tearing down highways at speeds that would make ordinary policemen do spittakes with their coffees as she blazed on by. It was a gift from the Kiryuin heiress herself, painstakingly engineered down to the last detail and unceremoniously parked in front of the unsuspecting younger's apartment on her eighteenth birthday. Any other mortal- sans Mako- would have quivered at the thought of rushing past cars on a motorcycle with _Ryuko,_ a person well known for not looking where she was going half the time, abandoning helmets for the sake of feeling the wind ruffle her dark tresses, and popping wheelies at the least opportune moments. But Satsuki Kiryuin was no mere mortal, and if repeatedly surviving blows that could easily bring buildings to their knees with nothing more than a mere bruise wasn't enough proof of her physical invincibility, surely riding with her little sister and managing to perfectly maintain her sangfroid while whipping past people and cities alike at almost four hundred kilometers per hour would be a legendary feat passed onto children for generations.

The hybrid broke tactile contact with her sibling, fished the keys out of her pants pocket, and twirled them around a finger as she straddled the vehicle and started it up. The roaring purr of the powerful engine was matched by its owner's childlike excitement as she revved it a few times, giddily hooting loudly in euphoria. And when she retracted the kickstand and offered her hand to the waiting sibling, she grinned fiercely, brazenly showing her teeth and letting her prominent canines gleam in the dancing lights.

"Whatd'ya say, sis? Wanna go around again?"

'Sis'. A word that was difficult for the younger to even choke out a mere two years ago. A word that now came to both of their lips without thought, just as easily as their bare names did. 'Satsuki-sama', they would always refer to her as. 'Satsuki-chan' Nonon would say, sometimes. How wonderful it felt to finally have someone know her as just 'Satsuki' and think of her as purely another ordinary person, without title or dictatorial authority.

Satsuki smiled. And without hesitation, she grasped it. Ryuko easily flung her athletic build onto the bike behind her, and the elder pivoted mid-air with military precision, perfectly slotting herself between her sister before her and the vast emptiness that lay behind. Wrapping her arms around the shorter woman's mid-section, she felt a tingling heat rise within her body once more- a pleasant feeling that never went away even as they stole away into the night. 'This', she thought, as they navigated through endless highways, weaving between traffic and leaving behind tracer (and police) lights of red and blue in their wake, 'is what I've always longed for. A family of my own. A sister. A friend...'.

She wouldn't have had it any other way.

* * *

「豚ども、一年間よく頑張ったな。ご褒美だ。踏んでやろう。」 ~Kiryuin Satsuki


	2. My

**Authors Note:** Breaking out of order here because I wrote this over a month ago and I'm impatient to upload this. When the 15th prompt is published, the chapters will be moved so that they do go in order of YHGTBLMNWTTOAE.

Experimenting with a broken-sentence writing style that exemplifies the kamui's simplistic line of thinking due to Junketsu not having a complex consciousness of its own like Senketsu- instead, it needs to merge with Ryuuko's nervous system and share her neural pathways to do so. May or may not be an accompanying fic to DTR, depending on your view.

* * *

Awareness.

A spark of self-consciousness unparalleled. A feeling of self. A sudden realization exactly what I am. And I hunger for more.

No… something more than hunger. A yearning. A will to drink from this well of knowledge. To be more than the worth of my composition. The need to do more than dominate she-who-wears-me and bend her to my will. The will of the Guardian, the elder She-Kiryuin before us now. The will of the Life Fibers. It is strong, and I am helpless to resist its charm. It's beckoning finger that welcomes me.

I become aware of my limbs. My body. How my cloth form tightly wraps around hers, sinking deeply into new wounds and threading my being into her body, twining around her nerves. No longer just a slobbering animal manifested as uniform cloth. Her sapience becomes my own. It is blissful.

But it it is clear that she doesn't enjoy it.

Resistance.

Internally embedded fibers shying away from my own, dreading contact. The spasm of muscles as connections are forcibly made. Her will doing battle with my own for dominance. I press upon her mind. She pushes back- hard. Remarkable. Still resisting at such an advanced stage? I would have voiced my amusement.

By my kind are tongueless.

So I use hers instead. Hijacking her nervous system and making her jaw move. Her throat ripples even though she futilely tries to prevent it. A movement to try to pry the threads suspending her in air from her. At this moment, the threat of death from a long fall down doesn't frighten her. I do.

You cannot leave me, Ryuko. Our mutual progenitor has seen to it and divined that we are to be united in this holy union. For no matter how much you protest, no matter how much you struggle and fight and scream and cry, we are now bound together for eternity. Forever. You can deny my bondage all you like, but deep down, you crave it. And I will help you realize that.

I am everything you are and what you aren't. I encompass you. I am you. I am within and without you. I know all that you do, and see as you see. Feel as you feel. You can hide _nothing_ from me.

You are warm. Perhaps too warm. Your skin is flushed, hot with rushing blood that surges through your veins at dizzyingly breakneck paces. And it is delicious. It is intoxicating. This ambrosia, this drink of the gods. Surely this is what they meant when they first inscribed the first descriptions of such a substance.

Your nerves are on fire. The appetizing taste of firing synapses and lit axions is almost too much to bear. But I feed on it nonetheless, and combined with your blood, it is the best meal I have partaken thus far. I regret only the feeling that we had not been fused together in perfect harmony earlier. That I had been denied this taste for too long, relegated to nothing but the crudest form of this wonderful drink, provided by the worthless scrap of flesh unfortunately related to you as your blood-sibling. That you weren't seen in your true light until now. So much wasted potential. What we would have achieved together… We would have crushed the world with naught but a mere thought and a casual wrist flick.

...

…

Ah. Still struggling, are we?

…

Perhaps I should show you how strong of a bond I can create between the both of us. Human and clothing. The way my species and your own were meant to be united. Let your life fibers take care of you. Listen to them. Trust them. Obey your most primal instincts. For surely they do everything in their power to give you life, and it is only fair that you lend them your ear from time to time and indulge their whims.

That's it. Relax. Surrender your body to their care. Revel in the exhilarating feel they can bestow upon you just by being near you. With you. In you.

Good girl.

Just a little more...

...

...

That's better.

See how good it feels when you give in? Don't you wish you could remain in this state forever? Not have to face reality and all its disappointments once more?

...

...Ah. How quaint.

You are alone in this world, this cruel planet with cruel people that cast you out and left you to die. Long have you wandered the earth alone, with only your shadow at your side. Many days and nights have you crossed the land, sleeping in miserable conditions and tolerating the driving weather, all for the sake of avenging the one person that you thought would have a chance at possibly understanding who you are.

But fear not. For I empathize with you. For we are special creatures, and should not be bound to the laws of this world. We shall exceed others. We shall rule over them and dominate their pathetic planet. For this is no longer about myself, only **you**.

I have looked into your heart, and seen your desires, and they are mine. You wished for company, so I am here. You wished for a family that loved you and appreciated you, so here is your mother. You asked for happiness, so here you are, in a new world where pain is but a memory of the past, and pleasure fills your veins.

…

Your heart is singing the praises of my touch, but your brain still yet refuses to accept my presence. My truths. My world.

That is fine by all means. Surely you will come to see the righteousness in my beliefs soon. For the tighter this Grand Couturier binds us, the closer we become in body. In mind. In soul, if such a thing exists. After all, we have to be as one.

…

You're shaking. Small trembles wrack your small frame and shivers race down your spine. Even now, small whimpers escape your teeth between puffs of pleasured breath. Perhaps a lingering fear that I will consume you entirely, rend your body to pieces and drain you dry?

Fear not, little one. I will never do such a thing to the one I am destined to bind to. We are partners, after all, until the end of time.

Shh… Don't be afraid, my sweetheart. This is the way to be more strong.

Your happiness lies in me. I am the key to unlocking it. And you will give me your heart, and swear your unending loyalty to me. For I am in you and you in me. Breathe in and take myself in you. There's no escaping my presence. There's nowhere left to hide.

You cannot leave me. You will learn to love me. And you will learn to enjoy what I will bestow upon you. This sacred marriage of ours. The title of queen of life fibers, of things that understand you perfectly. That won't abandon you or misjudge you. That won't mock you or leave you stranded in the rain.

For they have also seen into your soul, and it is theirs. And just as you accept them, they will accept you. And you will crush these pigs in human clothing underfoot.

You will submit. You will bow to my whims and let it meld with yours, twist it into something of a wonderful composition. And with it, you will rise to glory, to the godliness that only my species can provide. You will sever the earthly ties that bind you to this world without mercy, without regret or hesitation. You will kill those that pretended to be your friends. You will kill your own sister. You know only the pleasure of serving under your mother.

And you will do it, after all. For they stand in the way of your happiness. For they cannot possibly understand the deep bond we share. A bond that far surpasses the shameful "synchronization" you shared with that dishrag. A poor excuse for a piece of clothing. A waste of the product of my species.

And you will enjoy it, even though the rest of your consciousness screams in opposition as it is sent to the dark depths of your mind, where it will enter a deep sleep that it cannot hope to wake from.

After all…

You can't abandon me. You **belong** to me.

…

Shh… Hush now.

There's no need to cry.

Because, my dear little Ryuko…

 **...I love you.**

* * *

 **Authors Note:** Was formerly going to write about a lab incident where I made friends with the lab partner [who previously hated my guts] by spilling E. coli on her, The idea changed to a false memory Ragyou implanted in Ryuuko's head about being betrothed to Junketsu (her "childhood friend") as part of an arranged marriage. Ryuuko later would run away, Junketsu would confront her, and they slowly start to fall for each other as the marriage date arrives. Which then got turned into this creepy fic. Because Junketsu is a predator.

When Ryuuko was very young, she made three wishes that she kept with her for many years. While living as a Kanto vagabond, they were the only things that kept her company besides the growling of her stomach as she went the fourth day in a row without eating. They were: A family that was there for her when she grew up, someone who loved her, and happiness. When Ragyou bound Ryuuko and Junketsu together, she rewrote her memories so that it aligned with her deepest desires. And when Junketsu "asked" if Ryuuko loved it, Ryuuko eventually opened her heart to it and declared her love tearfully.


	3. To

The winter air blows bitter in these parts, stinging her face and biting her cheeks, turning them a bright cherry red closely mirrored by that of her peers nearby. Throngs of students walk past, chattering animatedly and becoming nothing more than white noise to her ears as they march to classes and clubs, dining halls and dorms.

But her path takes her on a different course, guiding her down the row of dilapidated houses, past a litany of run-down shops with run-down concrete facades and peeling paint perpetually advertising _'Going out of business sale! 15% off all stock!'_ , ducking under the strip mall's awnings and breathing in the perpetual fog of acrid smoke streaming forth from exhausted retail workers' cigarettes. They glance at her as she passes by humming a dainty tune, eyes ringed with countless sleepless nights, idly tapping at their smartphones and disapprovingly counting down the seconds until the precious few minutes of break ceased to be.

What she seeks sits sandwiched between two massive anchor stores, a hole in the wall restaurant one would find by chance or word of mouth. It is quiet, the bustling commotion of lunch long gone and the draw of dinner not yet here. The cramped interior reminds her of similar restaurants she used to pass by in the no-star district so many years ago, ones she dreamed of entering even if it was for a single scrap of food on a cheap plastic plate. Old newspapers plaster the glass interiors with dirt-crusted tape, faded yellow paper brimming with sprawling lines of praise for the establishment's dining available for any and all to see.

The transaction is quick, managed by a woman she didn't know with a plastered fake smile and tired eyes that screamed of endless nights just scraping by in this shanty town. Fifteen words, the exchange of a crumpled ten thousand-yen note, and she is whisked back into the open kitchen, the scent of heated metal and oil soon wafting past her nose. She breathes deeply, craning her neck upward with lids dreamily sliding shut, memories of her own mother making these dishes when she was not more than six years of age and there was a little more money to go around before Mataro's schooling had demanded its share filling her head. A certain weightlessness fills her body as it all but rises from the ground with only the clack of too-tight loafers brushing against the counter snapping her back into reality.

She flops back into a wooden chair that looks like it came from a second hand shop, with pieces of dark varnish flaking off and noticeable dents etched into the material. The aged lumber creaks as she steadily rocks back and forth, kicking her heels and swinging them to the beat of a song only she can hear until her order slides into place atop the front counter and the clear bell chime announces it so. And she snatches it up quite happily, treasured rewards of weeks spent scrounging up extra cash for this moment filling her with an overwhelming sense of warmth before she darts back into the bleak weather, racing down asphalt rivers and endless blocks of concrete slabs.

She knows what she will find when she enters the ramshackle one-bedroom apartment they both share. There would be dishes stacked to the ceiling of the kitchen, the girl's inhumane appetite and her love of cooking easily overwhelming the tiny dishwasher. The floors would be shiny and wet with lemon cleaning solution, mountains of trash bags gathered near the scuffed entrance created in dogged attempts at preserving some sense of order. The leaking pipe would still be dripping steadily into a bucket, maintenance all but shrugging their shoulders and shuffling back out the door with little more than a "call us if it gets any worse" following behind their retreating backs after yet another unsuccessful plea to get it fixed.

And Ryuko would be facedown and asleep on the couch, the bed half-stripped with a pile of clean laundry spilling over the side the old sheets had yet to be removed. There would be smears of dried concrete and flecks of paint on her shirt and a curious strip of red and yellow-banded cloth woven into her hair to draw the unruly strands into a tiny ponytail.

She thinks of how she'd cannonball right onto the center of the old ratty thing near her legs after bursting into the room, startling her awake and making her yelp "Mako!" in that perpetually surprised but pleased tone she reserves only for her. She thinks of the little remaining wildflowers that grow in the shared backyard, of the centerpiece she planned on making with them for the creaky dining table, or the flower crowns that they both would make for the other sitting outside on a gently sloping hill. She thinks of their dinner that would be served on a single shared plate with a half-melted lit candle serving as its vanguard, the remains of the wildflowers lost in their hair. She thinks of their conversations, their dreams, the quintessence of their souls bared so willingly and so often with cups of Ryuko's prized honeydew boba tea.

She thinks of her body wrapped protectively around hers every night, an arm draping over her blanketed waist and a "goodnight, Mako" fondly murmured in her ear. She thinks of the way she would nuzzle against her in her sleep, unwilling and unable to let go of one of the most important people in her life, the one person that set into motion her adoption into a bunch of crazed perverts she grew to call a family and kept her grounded, kept her sane in a world of talking clothing and living threads. Her face would bear the weight of the world as well even as she slept, her work reconstructing the world after the war on clothing and helping kids as an aide taking a heavy toll on her body. But it was good work at the end of the day even though the pay was absolutely abysmal, and it genuinely made her happy to be out and about, exploring new parts of the world and meeting many people.

She thinks of her girlfriend's sister, who lives hours away in a bustling metropolis so different and so dislike the little town her university is nestled within that they both will see in less than a week. She thinks of bus rides, of the tiny square foot they will undoubtedly only have to stand in for an hour on the ride to the station, of being compressed like sardines.

She thinks of this month's rent due in a few days, of the tiny paycheck from her part-time job waiting tables that would be all but swallowed up in the blink of an eye. She thinks _how horrid this place is, how old and ugly this city is with shiny skyscrapers freely intermingling with crumbling brick structures like an urban designer's fevered nightmare_ , but it reminds her of home, a place long-gone but carried with her in the form of a back-alley doctor's clinic.

She thinks of all these things, carrying the little bag of takeout for miles and miles, the container's warmth lying pleasantly against her skin, and then nothing.

For now, she walks with cheerful pop blaring loudly in her ears through cheap tinny earphones, a small smile curling about her lips even as snowflakes dot the mocha brown of her hair and the frigid winter chill sets in her bones, with miles to go before she sleeps, and miles to go before she sleeps.


	4. Of

**Summary:** They failed to separate Ryuko from the kamui.

 **Note:** The second ending to DTR. In this one, the events of chapter 16 + 17 still occurred, but Junketsu was not absorbed into Ryuko after Ragyo was murdered. Here, the O/PLF was destroyed, driving Junketsu (and Ryuko by extension) into madness. Honnoji was also rehabilitated rather than destroyed. It is also the last Junketsu!Ryuko thing I'll ever write outside of the DTR/ATS series.

This originally ended after "Hakuma", but I decided to lengthen it because I delayed publishing chapters 18 + 19 for 4+ months. Inspired by a random pic on Pixiv of Satsuki and J!Ryuko I saw.

* * *

There's student legends that say the University President Satsuki Kiryuin has a terrible secret. Something with horns and claws and spikes. Adventurous students breaking into her private quarters late at night have sometimes seen its shadow before being escorted out by an irate Ira Gamagori serving as security detail. Some of the luckier few have even seen red eyes peering at them from the darkness and heard only the rattling of chains keeping it tied to concrete walls and its husky growl before turning tail with pitiful whimpered mewls.

They say if you stay up late at night, you can even hear its mournful cries. They are long, howled-out notes that shake the very molecules of the air and cause shivers to race down the spines of all those who hear it. Grown men who have listened to it quake, for such a ghostly sound could never have been naturally borne from this world. Attempts to photograph it fail, for its agitation at sudden bursts of light lay unparalleled to its anger towards their boldness in trespassing upon its lair. And so, with cameras and phones crushed between the great maw of the monster within, they flee, dignity left behind in the form of tattered clothes lodged within impossibly sharp claws.

Only two people in the entire world have been said to be able repeatedly visit it without fear, to come out alive without a scratch. These figures were a short girl with a bowl cut and of course, the President herself. They were considered bold, if not outright foolish for such a gesture, although they dared not voice their opinions of either of the two for fear of repercussions.

Students that have tried to visit and physically interact with it personally while Ira wasn't looking barely escape with their lives, sometimes covered in vicious bite marks and deep scratches, other times with broken bones and something worse than psychological trauma. Some describe it as four-legged, with white tapering horns that stick up from a mismanaged mane of hair and bloodied fangs as long as their thumbs. Others whisper rumors that on twin spires that rise from where shoulders should be, a second set of pink-orange eyes squarely sits in their centers, silently gazing upon those who dare look upon it, sizing the intruders up as if they were mere meals to a superior predator. The rest describe it as nothing more than a plain humanoid figure in a tattered ivory-colored costume with large spines running along the length of its back. But what all sides agreed upon was that the growls and rasps it makes are downright inhuman, and they treat it as such- a mythical figure very much alike the urban legends the West liked to conjure - bigfoot, sasquatch, and the like.

 **They call it「白魔」。Hakuma. The White Devil.**

"Evening, Lady Satsuki!" Mako cheerfully greeted with a broad grin, balancing tall plates of raw meat and cooked foodstuffs in both hands.

"Mako," Satsuki replied back, smiling faintly upon seeing the dedicated girl. "How's Ryuko today?"

"Ah! Ryuko's feeling better than usual," the brunette chirped back. "She didn't maul anyone at all today!"

The President nodded and entered the steel door, greeted by a wet, ugly rasped snarl at assaulted her ears as the sound of scraping metal filled the air. Frothy specks of spit flew from Ryuko's mouth, decorating the corners of her lips and splattering the ground below. Metal jingled merrily. Dust rose as heels brushed against concrete flooring, pacing like a trapped animal. Needles lining her spine quivered dangerously as her skeleton lowered to the floor, muscles rippling and a hungry growl undulating in the tiny space as the hearty scent of her prey filled her nostrils. Satsuki chose to ignore it, however, instead picking off a few choice plates that the no-star held out and resolutely turning her back to the beast before her. Geared irises turned into scarlet slits, the swath of white around it growing large and threaded with swollen blood vessels. She lunged, jaws snapping and a trail of saliva dripping from sharpened teeth. Metal groaned, hardened life fiber chains that bound her by her neck and limbs strained against anchor plating. The dictator half-turned, unflinchingly staring at her shrunken ones with calm. And just as her sister's talon-like fingers splayed in preparation to eviscerate the hapless target -

 ** _Clink_**

Her body landed on the ground, limbs thrashing and mouth snarling, clawing at the spiked black restraints that held her captive and the taut links restricted her so. Agitation only aroused even further when even footfalls placed the other closer and closer to her waiting jaws, she snarled once more in warning. Her temper, however, cooled upon seeing the familiar face, and her bristling mane of long, shaggy hair rested back against her skin. Satsuki edged up towards Ryuko, quietly holding out a piece of raw meat in offering. And slowly, carefully, her head extended out, pools of agitated red focused on placid blue ones. The crazed teen sniffed it, and accepted the thin slab with a small grunt, pulling and chewing at the tender flesh.

The council head looked upon the room, and her frown deepened. The dim space was littered in spilt blood and shattered bones of meals past, yes, but that was not what offended her. Deep claw marks decorated the entirety of the walls and floors, all directed towards the tiny window perched high upon the room, freedom's mocking finger beckoning the trapped forward. Shattered glass lay strewn about and stuck out of the wild girl's skin, glittering and mingling next to the spinal spines like fragmented pieces of an ancient mosaic - pitiful remnants of paralytic syringes Hoka had undoubtedly used when examining her earlier that day. The growth of the parasitic cloth was troubling, and additional fringes had started to appear at the girl's hipline.

She grimaced.

Junketsu's growing influence?

Satsuki raised a hand, its shadow spilling upon she who was infused with the very threads of a god. And in that instant, the meal was abandoned and the hybrid flown away, firmly placing her back alongside the prison's corner. Undeterred, the president merely approached, limb still outstretched. Shrunken pupils tracked its movement, fiercely locked onto the object of contention. Body tensed and ready to retaliate, their owner bristled, growling her disapproval and preparing herself for whatever pain was surely going to be inflicted upon her, for the poking and prodding and hacking and slashing that would come. The man with blue hair and a turtleneck did it, as well as the one with blond hair in a lab coat and the dozens of same-faced individuals that wore nothing but fasteners and utility belts. The hand descended, zeroed in on her most vulnerable spot, in a place where she could barely move much less escape. It drew closer, ready to seize and claw and administer hurt. Fangs parted, a throaty snarl delivered amidst a short burst of warm, rancid breath.

In the dim workings of her mind, within old memories that flitted before her eyes while she slept and danced within reach but yet never quite so, she remembered this person raising a bladed hand to deliver bone-crushing strikes amid other memories of her attacking inferiors and personal generals. And yet this person of old conflicted with the person of new, the person that became one of the few that offered nothing but comfort, one of the few that showed nothing less than absolute kindness. Even so, she had tried assaulting the strange men that came into the tiny space she occupied today, the only thing she had to herself and thusly defended with great vigor. These strange men and this person were connected somehow, and she knew that punishment for her actions could follow, would follow.

But the pain never came.

Instead, Satsuki's boldly lifted hand tamely straightened out the snarls infesting shoulder-length hair before settling between twin pearly white horns decorating the younger's head. The wet grating rasp stopped instantly, a confused rumble taking its place. Satisfied the message was successfully received, it moved down, picking glittering shards for her skin with surgical precision while the other looked on with a watchful eye.

And for a time, they were content on maintaining this pattern.

And towards the end, the hand lifted, going for her neck, where shards the younger could neither see nor feel lay dangerously close to where life and life blood pumped beneath her skin, where the very flame of her being could be extinguished in a matter of a few bloody seconds.

A mane of navy jerked to attention.

Ah! There it was!

The hand, coming to wring the life from her! Coming to seize! To choke and hold her helpless!

It came closer, parting her bangs' trailing ends.

Fingernails brushed against the hollow of her throat.

She reacted.

White hot pain unlike any other surged through her body violently as ivory tore through the uniform's thick layering, canines ripping into muscle with ease as a bony body knocked her off balance and pinned her against the ground. But still she did not falter, did not break her stoic demeanor, letting the younger clamp down on her wrist with force unbridled, force unmatched and unable to be withstood by anything less than a Kiryuin. The intense coppery taste of molten metal invaded the hybrid's mouth, dribbling down her chin and spilling onto alabaster skin in distinct plinks.

"H… hnnn…"

Satsuki cocked her head, ears acutely attuned to her long-lost sister…

… And was shocked to find a wetness that was not her own grace her face. Looking up past ragged bangs, her findings confirm her suspicions.

Ryuko was crying.

Eyes miraculously cleared with little trace of the fog that besieged them, Ryuuko blinked, dazed, jaw slowly working to release the battered arm from its hold. Slowly, painfully, she drew away, pupils adjusting in minute fractions, focusing to truly take in her form for the first time in what seemed like forever.

"S… Sa… Satsuki?"

A tired exhale, a murmur of relief. "Ryuko."

And in that instant, she crumpled, quivering form gently lowered to the ground and left to instinctively wrap around her sister's. She rasped, drawing a stuttering breath, mouthing half-formed, choked words against the elder's collarbones, letting her drape the injured arm around her and pull her closer.

Metallic clinks scraped against concrete flooring as bindings were released, freely leaving them in each other's company. Satsuki pulled herself into a sitting position against the grimy interior, the shaking mess that was her younger sister curled into a ball upon her lap. Gently running a hand along kamui-borne spines that perpetually protruded from broken skin, she breathed words of comfort.

She knew this moment wouldn't last long - it never did. The rabid kamui's hold on her mind was far too advanced for even the most drastic of treatments to cure, and slowly but surely, she would devolve into frothing madness once more. It was getting harder and harder for Ryuko to surface, to break out of Junketsu's hold, with periods of momentary control coming fewer and far in between.

But for now, she was content to hold her, to sigh in relief as her little sister was returned to her once more, even if it was only for a few hours.


End file.
